adorers, "here come again the merry maskers. By Bacchus,
the little bantam still reigns supreme. The King and his gallants in
tears. Let us join the mourners, Master Hart."

As the Duke and the player, the former assuming a fraternal air for an
end of his own, joined the royal group, Nell re-entered gaily, every
inch the man. She was still surrounded by the ladies, who, fluttering,
flattering and chattering, hung upon her every word. With one hand she
toyed with her mask, which she had good-naturedly dropped as none were
about who knew her. She clapped it, however, quickly to her eyes at
sight of the King.

"You overwhelm me, my fair ones," she said, with spirit, as she held
court in the centre of the room. "I assure you, I am not used to such
attention--from the ladies."

"Our hospitality is beggarly to your deserts," sighed Portsmouth, who
had joined the bevy, but loud enough for the King to hear.

"You quite o'erpower me, Duchess," answered Nell, modestly, adding for
the satisfaction of her own sense of humour: "No wonder we men are
fools, if you women talk like this."

While she was speaking, Lady Hamilton whispered facetiously in
Portsmouth's ear.

"Beau Adair married!" exclaimed the Duchess, in response. "It cannot be.
He looks too gay for a married man."

"No confidences, my pretty ones," observed Nell, reprovingly.

The hostess hesitated; then she out with it in a merry strain.

"Lady Hamilton asks after the wife you left at home."

"My wife!" cried Nell, in astonishment; for this phase of her
masquerading had not presented itself to her before. "Great Heavens, I
have no wife--I assure you, ladies!"

"So?" observed Portsmouth, her curiosity awakened. "Modest--for a
bachelor."

"A bachelor!" exclaimed Nell, now fully _en rapport_ with the
spirit of the situation. "Well,--not exactly a bachelor
either,--ladies."

"Alack-a-day," sighed Lady Hamilton, with a knowing glance at her
companions, "neither a bachelor nor a married man!"

"Well, you see--" explained Nell, adroitly, "that might seem a trifle
queer, but--I'm in mourning--deeply in mourning, ladies."

She drew a kerchief from her dress and feigned bitter tears.

"A widower!" tittered Lady Hamilton, heartlessly. "Our united
congratulations, sir."

The other ladies one by one sobbed with affected sympathy, wiping their
eyes tenderly, however, lest they might remove the rich colour from
their cheeks.

"Mesdames," said Nell, reprovingly,